


Hidden Beneath Scars

by gold_sakura



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Don't worry, M/M, Modern AU, can never have too much fluff with these two, epilogue contains more mentions of the other characters, it doesn't have a bad ending, major amounts of fluff towards the end, once again my tags don't really help, short drabble for Jean's birthday, sighs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-07
Updated: 2014-05-14
Packaged: 2018-01-18 12:01:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1427731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gold_sakura/pseuds/gold_sakura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Whether the scars will tear us apart or bring us closer together, we will always be connected to them, no matter what.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! In celebration of Jean's birthday, I decided to do a small oneshot based on my lovely friend's modern AU idea. She is jellyfishsempai on tumblr and if you want to see this idea you can see it here: http://jellyfishsempai.tumblr.com/post/81145037128/modern-au-where-marco-and-jean-had-a-history  
> I hope you enjoy!

It was only a matter of time before we separated.Our relationship at the time was only held by a small string of hope that he had for me. What a dumb mistake that was; I was never willing to back down, never willing to compromise. When he left, my heart ached. It craved the comfort he had always provided. It wanted to feel the warmth that radiated his entire being. It didn’t want to let go. My stubborn tears were the only thing that accompanied me back home.

Marco had an unbelievable sense of dedication to help people. His dreams and goals were focused on the benefits of others; it didn’t surprise me when he had told me he wanted to help others all around the world. He was the type of person who would neglect his own necessities to aid someone in need. When we first started dating, he managed to almost starve himself just so he could study with me for most of the day. I had told him that he should be more focused on his own well-being, that he deserved to be healthy like everyone else. He brushed away that statement lightly and told me to stop worrying so much. That only made me worry even more.

There wasn’t a day to where this topic wasn’t brought up. Even after countless attempts to stop the incessant fighting, the subject was brought back to attention somehow. Marco insisted that I was being selfish and that I only wanted him to be by my side. I couldn’t deny that accusation entirely, which only made Marco more furious. It was at the end of college where we finally decided to end our relationship.

We still tried to communicate with each other, especially since we shared most of the same friends with each other. It was obvious to everyone else that the strain between us hadn’t disappeared, and that made everything so awkward. I silently laughed at everyone’s faces whenever we met up; they seriously looked like they were constipated or something. The humor in the situation didn’t last however, and soon I decided to avoid that whole group as much as possible. I really didn’t want Marco to be alone, I didn’t mind making that sacrifice.

After a few months of being holed up in my apartment, I realized that no one attempted to talk to me anymore. _They must think I’m an asshole for just leaving like that_ , I thought solemnly. I would apologize once the situation between Marco and I cooled down. I chuckled sarcastically; I really had no idea when that day would actually come. Instead of lingering on those melancholy thoughts for the rest of that day, I went to go make myself some breakfast. I was still in a slight daze when I was frying my eggs and nearly jumped in the air when I heard my phone ring. I turned off the stove and went to go check my phone located on the other side of the countertop. I furrowed my brows once I saw that Eren was calling me.

I accepted the call hesitantly and answered with my usual greeting to the fucker.  “What is it Eren?”

“Where the hell are you, Kirschstein?”

“Home. Why?”

“Fucking hell. You’re not even going to bother to say farewell to everyone?”

“Farewell? Dude, what are you talking about?”

Eren groaned. “Do you not remember? Everybody in the group signed up for volunteer work over at Trost, well, besides you of course. Today is the day before the orientation, so we are all heading to the airport right now.”

“Trost? Isn’t that where the huge war is right now?” I clench my phone with a tight grip.

Eren is silent for a moment before responding. “Yeah. The people over there need as much help as they can get.”

I let a out a small huff. “That’s the exact same shit Marco would say.”

“He is the one that convinced most of us to go, you know.”

“So… he’s going too?” A small lump catches in my throat.

“When I said everyone, I meant EVERYONE Jean. We are leaving in two hours. Feel free to say bye if you want.” Eren immediately hangs up.

I silently curse myself for forgetting such an important date and start rushing to head out the door. Even with the smallest bit of traffic, it would take about an hour and a half to reach the airport.  I grab my car keys, not even bothering to finish my breakfast as I lock the front door. This was only my only chance to remedy the relationship I had with Marco, my ex-boyfriend, my ex-lover, hopefully still my best friend.

It took all of my willpower not to break countless laws. Everything seemed slow and was dragging on for an eternity; it was pissing me off how I was forced into a standstill on the freeway. I kept glancing at the clock on my car’s radio, staring at it like my glare would tell time to stop. My wishful thinking was thwarted by harsh reality, and it took 15 minutes for the cars in each lane to start moving again.  I started to mentally punch myself in the face.

I make it to the airport with only 10 or so minutes to make it to the right gate; I made use of my time stuck in traffic to do a bit of research so I wouldn’t scour the whole airport like an idiot. I sprinted my way out of the parking lot to catch the elevator that lead to the departing gates. I only had a couple of seconds to catch my breath before I arrived at my destination. I work my muscles to their max until I saw the number I had been looking for. I smiled a bit, muttering a small “I made It” under my breath. My moment of happiness was crushed when I saw the passengers already boarding the plane.

There was no way I was going to give up that easily. I was still a couple of feet away from the line, so I could only see the outlines of each person showing their ticket and passport to the stewardess. My sights were set for finding any of my friends: Sasha, Connie, Reiner, Bertholdt, Annie, Armin, Mikasa, even Eren. If I could spot one of them, there would be a good chance that was Marco was close behind. After glancing at the line frantically, I saw the exact person I wanted to talk to. Marco was already showing his information when I yelled out his name from across the room. He jumped a bit and turned around in my direction. We instantly make direct eye contact and I tried to tell him to stay here, here where I still needed him. But, before I could even open my mouth, Marco graced me with a crestfallen smile. He looked both relieved and sad, making my throat go dry. I could only watch as Marco disappeared into the hallway that lead to the entrance of the plane. I extend an arm and sigh in defeat. I waited until all the passengers were onboard and went to one of the viewing areas that the airport had. My eyes are fixated on Marco’s plane as it takes off, I ignored the tears that fall against my cheeks.

I prayed for all of them to be safe. The war occurring in Trost was chaotic and disorganized; it was no wonder that they had to resort to finding volunteers for everything, from commanders to medics. Knowing Marco, I assumed he would have chosen to become a nurse. I couldn’t see how Marco would ever be one to be willing to kill another human being. I go on living my life of solitude, without any hope of changing anytime soon.  Months had passed at a precarious pace, making me believe that it had been entire years. After one night of lounging at the local pub, I suddenly feel that it would be wise to go back home a little early. All the other customers with me booed; they were mostly there to see me get drunk beyond recognition. I honestly didn’t give a fuck about anyone in there and briskly walked to my apartment. I unlocked the door when I arrived and went to go sit down on my musty old couch. I found the remote to the television in record time and turned it on. It was still stuck on the news channel since I had rarely used the damn thing anymore. I was about to change the channel when I suddenly saw an emergency alert begin to occur. A hesitant news reporter stared straight into the camera and sighed. She took a deep breath before reporting that a surprise ambush had occurred at Trost the night before and most of the country’s troops had been wiped out. She looked down before quietly stating that there were no signs of survivors.

Blurry footage began to play on my small television, becoming visibly brighter when the tremendous flames were caught on camera. The horrific sight showed everything being burned to ash, everyone caught in that place screaming in pain and agony. My whole world stopped. Everyone I knew was there. All of my friends were gone, losing their lives to a group of dishonorable terrorists. My breathing hitched when I processed the thought of never seeing Marco again. I would never able to see his freckled face shine as he smiled gently. I would never feel the warm embrace against Marco’s supportive body. I would never feel those soft, tender lips against my own. I would never hear him whisper a hushed “ _I love you_ ” against my ear ever again. I slumped back on my couch and yelled until my throat was numb and aching.

Adjusting to life without anyone besides myself was difficult at first for me. I was honestly one who used to constantly crave attention, whether it was good or bad. But as my thoughts and dreams bombarded me with constant images of that accursed day, as I soon  as I drifted off into my own space, somewhere where no one could ever notice I was there. I didn’t want to meet anyone else that cared about me. I was afraid of becoming close to others; I was afraid of the crushing sensation of losing a friend that I was all too familiar with. Despite these circumstances, I had changed jobs over the course of time and dedicated myself to become a specialized nurse for disabled patients. I thought I might as well make my pathetic existence useful somehow. I denied the fact that I might have been doing it to honor Marco as well.

A grueling year has passed since Marco’s declared death date. My days have been rather repetitive and drab. I can’t complain though, I chose to live like this. I avoid strangers’ stares as I walk out of the hospital. I just pulled a 10 hour shift with four extra hours of overtime; I wonder how my brain isn’t on the brink of insanity yet. It has started to rain, yet I walk home without an umbrella. I wouldn’t mind getting sick if it meant having a change of pace for once. All I ever do now is wake up, work, eat, and sleep. What an exciting way to live, huh?

Nothing significant happens as I reach my apartment. I yawn as I open the door, ready to hit the shower and head to bed. However, as I head to the bathroom, I suddenly get a text from one of my coworkers. If I remember correctly, her name is Hanji.

**Hey Jean u there?**

**Yea y?**

**Just wanted to let u kno that u have been switched to the early shift tomorrow. Wait…. since it’s already 1 am, I guess later on today.**

**Are you fucking serious?** I groan as I type out the rest of my message. **Why in the hell would I get switched last minute?**

**There is a new patient coming in tomorrow.**

**And that is my problem because?**

**I have no fucking clue. Levi just told me to tell you ok? Didn’t get that many details.**

I shiver as I read that Levi changed my schedule. Although he wasn’t the owner of the hospital, he was still the main supervisor for everyone on my floor. To put it bluntly, whatever order he gave me had to be done, no questions asked.

**Alright. Guess I have to turn in earlier than I would have. See ya later.**

**Night <3** The heart at the end of the message just increased the risen hairs on my arms.  The only one who had sent me little symbols like that was Marco…… I shake my head quickly as I realize that I am close to having another breakdown. I don’t need any crazy thoughts before I went to work again.  I sigh and go to bed with the thought that I might need more help than anyone else in this damn city.

As always, I wake up sooner than my alarm, drenched in sweat and tears. His face haunted my nightmares, staring at me with accusing eyes. I try to ignore my gnawing guilt and force myself to go to the hospital as quickly as possible. Once I get there, Levi is standing right at the front desk. There is no way I can escape now.

“Kirschstein.”

“Yes, sir?”

“Did shitty glasses tell you about your new patient already?”

“Yes. She didn’t give me any details though.”

“Why do you think I’m here, shit for brains? I’m only going to tell all of this to you once, so you better fucking listen, got it?” Levi glared at me with intimidating steel eyes.

I looked down. “Yes, sir.”

Levi snorted. “Alright. Your new patient is located in room 424 and you will be attending to him full-time for as long as it takes for him to recover. Your other patients have been assigned to the other nurses for the time being. You are to bring me daily reports on his progress immediately after your shift ends. Is that clear?”

I nodded briskly.

“Good, now get to it Kirschstein.”

“Yes, sir.” I didn’t hesitate to rush out of there; I never wanted to piss off that short hothead.

It doesn’t take me long to reach the front of the patient’s room.  I take a deep breath and gently knock on the door. “Hello? This is Nurse Kirschstein, your designated caretaker.” I mentally groaned. That line made me sound so fucking girly. “I’m coming in.” I open the door slowly to not startle who is inside, and lose all my shit when I see who is in the wheelchair before me. His eyes are casted down to the floor, but it is obvious he has a enormous scar that trails down the right side of his body.His hair has gotten a bit longer while his freckles have somehow become more pronounced on the pale side of his body. His shoulders are slumped and his breathing is slow, but it is him. It’s Marco.

“Marco!” I rush over to his side and do my best to restrain myself from crushing his frail body. I am taken aback when he looks up to meet my concerned gaze. His chocolate brown eyes are now darker than ever, void of any emotion or any recognition of his surroundings.

“Do...I know you?” Marco’s voice is monotone, his usual sweet tone gone. He does not smile or frown. In fact, there is no trace of his face moving at all.

“It’s me,Jean. Don’t play with me, man.” I hear my voice crack slightly.

“Jean?” Marco puts both of his hands on his forehead, doubles over, and growls. “I...I...I-” Tears suddenly fall along his cheeks. “Why can’t I remember you? Why can’t I remember anything?”

I rub the back of his neck in small circles; I can’t afford to break down when Marco was in front of me once again, lost and scared. “I’ve missed you.”

Marco quickly raises his arms and wraps them around my waist. “Jean ...Jean … Jean…” He keeps on repeating my name as I can only embrace him, only watch him sob to his heart’s content.

I do my best to remind of what we had back then slowly, day by day. I remind him of the first day we met and how nice he was to me when I had gotten lost in the first day of college. I tell him about how we had all of our classes together, eventually becoming friends along the way. I explain how it took me forever to realize my own feelings for him and how I confessed to him on the cheesiest day of the year: Valentine’s Day. I recall his laugh and bright blush as he accepted my lame offer to go out with me; he held my hand gently that day, not caring who saw how gay we were for each other. I illustrate all of our lame dates, the ones that only poor college kids could afford. I try to make him remember all of the nights we snuggled in the same bed, all of the kisses we shared, all of the love we once had for each other.

Marco eventually comes around and starts adding his own small details to our memories. He says I used to crinkle my nose when it was too cold or when I was incredibly annoyed. He asks me if I still am a grouch in the morning, wondering about the black coffee that I occasionally grabbed in the mornings before heading to our first class together. He thought my confession was cute, especially when I gave him that huge teddy bear that had his name stitched on its belly. He chuckled when he recalled me slipping on nothing one day on our way to the movies. He smiles when he tells me how my warmth always made him feel loved. Marco was the same; he always took notice of the smaller details better than I did.

Even though he was gaining most of his memories back, they were all still jumbled and made his mind confused. There are still days where he doesn’t recognize me at all, and some where he scowls at me, like he knows why we broke up. I try not to pry too much. I’m just happy to be able to see him. It didn’t matter if we ever got back together. I just never wanted to let Marco out of my sight ever again.

Another few months have passed and I’m still unsure of the current status of our relationship is. I’d like to consider us as friends, but Marco has become more distant. His opinions and emotions are more closed up than they were before his trip to Trost. I possess less power than I had and find it more difficult to connect with him. We have many differences that we have discovered during this time, yet I can’t help but love the boy in front of me. To me, he will always be the man that is my other half. I dare not express this openly though; I don’t want to scare Marco away for good. I hold down my passion for him to make a full recovery. I hide my desire so he can possibly move on, learn to live without me. I do not deserve to hurt him more than I already have.

It is now April 7 and Marco has asked me to take him outside so we can take a stroll around the hospital’s small park. I don’t question it; he must have finally had enough of that stifling room. He takes along a huge backpack with him and when I offer to carry it for him, he shakes his head violently and clings on to it with a tight grip. I cock my head hoping to get an explanation, but end up sighing when Marco tells me to hurry up and push him out the door.

We start walking and end up doing a couple of full circles. I honestly am getting sort of bored, so I tell Marco that we should head back inside to get a meal before the lunch line begins to grow. He grabs one of the wheels and tugs the bottom of my shirt. He points in the direction of the lone fountain in the middle of the park. I reluctantly make my way to it, sort of frustrated and annoyed. I stop once Marco has a good view of the statue, a marble angel towering over the both of us.

“Turn me around.”

“Hah?”

Marco whines,” Just turn me around so I can see you, okay?”

“Alright.”

When Marco is facing me, he grins and raises his hand. “Give me a second.” He opens the backpack and grabs whatever is inside there. I almost flinch when he takes out a gigantic stuffed horse, complete with reins and a saddle. I almost whimper when I see my name stitched on the side of the horse’s torso. “Happy birthday, Jean.”

I am stunned that he got a gift for me. I never reminded him of when my birthday was, yet he got managed to hide this huge surprise from me. His face is expectant and cute, waiting for me to give a huge grin, just like the first time he gave me such an outrageous present. I chuckle and oblige. “Thank you.”

I have no idea where we are going from here. I don’t know about how this love will be different from our past. We might just stay best friends. But, even for a dense fool like myself, I can still see that we equally care for each other. I know we will get along. We will laugh, cry, scream, and do other sorts of things with each other. As I take a hold of his warm hand, I know we will never be able to leave each other’s side, no matter how much we try. We will be connected by the past scars that are gradually healing, slowly transforming into the future ahead of us.

 


	2. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A scar that is difficult to heal... Will a surprise be the cure to the nightmares?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! So...um this was supposed to be a oneshot.... But thanks to the lovely pastelprincessu here on AO3, I had become quite interested in making a sappy epilogue. Done in Marco's POV and mostly present tense. Hopefully I didn't screw up. As always I am stuck with no beta, so feel free to let me know if there are any huge mistakes. Hope you enjoy!  
> ALSO: This epilogue has many mentions of fire; if you are triggered by this, please be careful!

It’s been quite some time since became my caretaker. I’m still unable to keep track of days, weeks, and even months. But, Jean has reminded me that we have been reunited for a couple of years already. He isn’t allowed to be specific until my condition improves. I have been able to regain some memories ,which Dr. Smith has recorded as a positive step forward. Unfortunately, I have apparently hit a rough bump on the road to recovery; my nightmares have been holding me back.

My traumatic nights began shortly after I gave Jean his birthday present. I was more than pleased when I saw that Jean’s didn’t change, even after all the pain he had to suffer through alone. It was probably the feeling of self-satisfaction that caused my subconscious guilt to overflow. That day, I told Jean to head home early so he could call and maybe spend time with his folks. He reluctantly agreed once I told him that I was planning to sleep early that night. I honestly felt exhausted from all the time we had spent outside. Maybe if I had let my selfishness get the best of me, made Jean stay by my side until dawn, then maybe things would have been much more different.

They say that the first night is always the worst. I’m not sure whether I want to confirm that or not. Sure, it seems more shocking since you aren’t expecting it, but other than that, the pain is the same all the time for me. It doesn’t get worse, but it never gets any better either. I’m probably putting too much thought into this whole dilemma.

My nightmare is always the same. It starts off with me, doing my job before anything happens on that eventful day on Trost. Everyone, including all of my childhood friends who had come to support me and the troops, were trying their best to help the many injured whom had long ago cramped up the small medical tent. The stench of blood, sweat, and alcohol fills my nostrils; I try not to gag as I stitch up a soldier’s arm. Only grunts and small cries of pain are heard as the morning passes very quickly. It isn’t long before the flames come into view.

I never get to see how the fires started, but judging from the explosions and crashes I hear in my nightmare, I assume they were created by bombs of some sort. The searing heat approaches me slowly, mocking me sinisterly about my imminent demise. The flames begin to form walls, strong enough to keep me away from anyone else. I make my way through the fatal maze, seeing if there is a way to escape. I wheeze and hack as thicker smoke enters my lungs.

It feels like an eternity before I realize there is no way out. The bright yellow-orange flickers of the flames would most likely be the last source of light I would ever get to see. My tears feel cold compared to my surroundings. I sit down and watch my death approach; I feel my body twitch as shadows reflect against the flames. Somehow my friends’ faces become clear. They all managed to stay together, huddling tightly in a small circle despite the burning temperature. Their walls seem narrower than my own, their frantic movements letting me know of their panic.

There is no way for me to reach any of them. My skin is as fragile as glass compared to the monstrous flames surrounding me. I close my eyes as I hear the first yelp of pain. My mind becomes more unstable as I face my own cowardice; I can’t bear to look at my friends as they become victim to the silent killer surrounding all of us. I swear I can hear every single one of their voices, yelling my name in desperate and pleading tones. I mumble my last apologies to them, allowing the flames to take my heavy soul to atone for my mistakes. The tortuous screams are I can hear before I wake up in a cold sweat.

The news of my sudden shock spread shock spread the hospital quickly. My heart monitor was beeping at an alarming rate and my bed creaked as my body convulsed non-stop. Many nurses rushed into my room, all of them not entirely sure of how to deal with my condition. None of them had kept good details of my record in their minds. Without any more alternatives at hand, they had no choice but to bring Jean back in.

By the time Jean had slammed my room’s door, I had managed to revert back to a more stable state, but I still felt myself tremble a little against the stationary mattress beneath me. It took a full minute for my brain to process that had rushed to be by my side. His damp hair and glistening forehead reflected against the room’s bright light. His breath was harsh; his adam’s apple constantly moved as he tried to swallow huge gulps of air. His distressed eyes dismissed everyone else in the room and went straight to focusing on me instead. I finally calmed down once I felt Jean’s rough hand intertwine with my own.

According to Dr.Smith’s analysis, reassuring objects or memories are the only things that can phase me out of my shock. It was also established that Jean was the best source for both of these factors. There was no way to stop Jean from accepting the added responsibilities bestowed upon him. His shifts went well past the recommended overtime hours for any sort of nurse; after the first month of this process, it would be considered a miracle for Jean to go back home and sleep on his own bed.

Jean has to constantly remind me that it’s alright. Simple thoughts of me burdening my old friend plague my mind from time to time. I had already gave him enough stress in his life, even when I wasn’t here at all. No matter how much I pester Jean about worrying about his own health, he always stares me straight in the eyes. His fierce look keeps me in place and my heart begins to ache each time he says, “I know you would have done the same thing for me.”   Was this deep pain similar to all the urges Jean had back when we were together?

Abrupt snaps in front of my face bring me back to the present. I am sitting in bed with Jean staring at me intently.

“You alright there, Marco?” Jean speaks softly. Did I look that startled?

“Oh, I’m fine. Just having a pretty long flashback.” I laugh nervously. I hope he doesn’t ask about what I’m remembering.

“You are doing that a lot lately. Are you sure you are ready for today?”

“Of course I am Jean!” I clench my fists in excitement. “I can’t believe they are finally letting me explore the city now.”

“All the doctors say it is quite risky to let you out of the hospital boundaries so early though…” Jean sighs and looks away from my eyes.

I punch his shoulder lightly. “Oh stop being such a worrywart Jean. What happened to the rebel I knew back in college?”

“That was in college.”  Jean’s voice lowered severely. “Plus, my actions didn’t affect anyone else. Whether you like it or not, you have to know that this is a pretty big leap you are taking, dumbass.”

“I know it is. That’s why I’m trying to be positive about it silly. If you keep fidgeting like that, I’m definitely going to be nervous.” Jean stopped moving. “Let’s just enjoy the walk okay? It’s been forever since you have been somewhere other than the hospital or your house too.”

“Right,” Jean’s shoulders slumped. “But I’m taking the wheelchair.”

“No.” That accursed wheelchair has always been by my side ever since I got here. I didn’t mind at first, especially because I didn’t have much control of my body. But now it just like that one annoying neighbor who doesn’t know when to stop offering their assistance. Wow, my analogies are really lame. “I’m tired of being treated like I still need to be handicapped  If I feel faint or anything like that, I will tell you okay?”

“But-”

“There are many places where I can go sit down and take a breather. I trust that you will take care of me Jean. Now can you trust me to make my own decisions for once?”

“Fine. But if you fall on your face, don’t expect me to take pity on you.”

“Oh thanks,” I breath sarcastically. “You are the best nurse a guy can ask for.”

“Shut the fuck up Bodt.” Jean stands up and extends his arm. I smile gently and grab his hand. “Let’s get going.”

“Whatever you say Kirschstein.”

After much coaxing, I convince Jean that it would be a great idea to go visit the plaza. It probably wasn’t the bustling crowd that deterred him from this place; he might have felt awkward going back to the place where we had the majority of our old dates. I take my time to look at every building before entering any of them. I was glad that not much had changed. Most of the stores we had previously visited together or with friends were still in business, including the musty thrift clothing store and small pizzeria that was mostly noticed by the locals. My mouth moved unconsciously, eager to tell Jean all the memories that were coming to me at a rapid pace. We had spent a couple of hours window shopping before Jean clamped his hand over my mouth.

“I get it. You remember a lot of shit. Can you please shut up while we go eat at least?”

I nodded.

“Good. I can finally hear my own thoughts again.” That earned Jean another punch in the shoulder.

Deciding on what to eat didn’t take that long; I was honestly thrilled that I was going to eat something other than the bland lunches served at the hospital. I gave Jean complete control of the decision and I was surprised when he said he wanted Italian food. I gave him a look to which he quickly scoffed and crossed his arms.

“I like eating fancy shit every once in a while, you know.”

“Yeah. Didn’t you say that you weren’t a big fan of Italian food the last time we went to go eat some?”

“That was back then, Marco.” Jean then mumbled something softly.  
“Huh? I didn’t hear you.”

“I said…” Jean gulped. “I remember you saying that you uh….loved the food that time.”

I suddenly had a strong urge to pinch Jean’s cheeks. “Aw, still as romantic as ever, huh?”

“S-shut up.”  At least he didn’t deny it. “We are celebrating your first venture into the city and I’m not letting you eat some cheap-ass fast food, got it?”

“Yessir.”

I hope that I wouldn’t make a fool of myself during our dinner. My desire to bounce up and down in my chair had to repressed when I saw just how fancy this place still was.My eyes wandered to the many paintings hanging throughout the restaurant. I almost pass the table we were being seated at; I feel my warm blush creeping up my face. I sit down with little grace and proceed to hide my face once the waiter gives us the menus and leaves to attend to another customer.

“Come on man. No one noticed you were dozing off.”

“You did.” I groaned.

“Well of course I did. I have to look after you remember?”

I looked up and pouted. “That doesn’t mean you have to watch my every move. I can take   care of myself just fine.”

“Should I just leave then?”

“NO!” I yelp loud enough to garner the attention of most of the people inside the building. My face becomes unbearably hot. I cough while hiding my face behind the long menu. “No, you don’t have to go.”

Jean grazes my leg with his shoe under the table. “You are such a dork.”

“It’s all your fault.”

“I know.”

I wait until our main entrees arrive to show my face to the world again. I was pretty much forced to; I mean whoever heard of eating at a well respected establishment under the table? Jean and I both ordered dishes that we could not correctly pronounce, but we did know that they were both contained some sort of pasta. I stuck with a simple dish that used fettu- uh what was the word again? Uh fettuchina? Fettuchinee? Oh, right fettuccine. Jean had ordered the pasta that resembled little bowties. The rich taste of the unique spices inside the sauce flooded my taste buds. It was probably not that magnificent, but my tongue had become accustomed to scarf down endless amounts of dry meatloaf and stiff peas. Compared to that meal, this was beyond heavenly.  

With each new bite I take, it becomes harder to restrain the small sound of satisfaction rising in my throat. Jean and I both know that I might not be able to eat like this again anytime soon; I take my time to savor all the unique tastes invading my mouth, while Jean immediately devours his own dish. I think that this pasta would go wonderfully with some wine, but I am forbidden to consume any alcohol. I snicker to myself before I finally empty my plate.

“Something wrong?” Jean asks inquisitively.

I wave my hand. “Nah. I’m just being a brat right now.”

“Hah?”

I laugh a little too much at that statement. Jean’s brows begin to furrow. “Sorry, sorry.” I try to avoid an explanation to my sudden laughter and decide to answer his question. “I am just really craving some wine right now.”

“No can do. Heaven knows what you will do when you get drunk.” Sudden flashbacks of my drunken stupors flood my mind.

“Hey, hey, hey. Just because I said wanted something to drink doesn’t mean I want to get as retarded as I did back then.

“Wow. Didn’t think you would remember your little ‘adventures’.” Jean smirked.

I stomp on Jean’s foot while keeping a straight face. His howl of pain attracted much more attention than my previous actions did. I smile innocently as I signal for the waiter to bring us our check. “Let’s get going, shall we?”

“Fucking hell Marco. I forgot you were such a little bitch sometimes.”

“Is that so? It seems like you have more memory loss than I do.” Jean seems like he can’t think of a good comeback. I let myself bask in the sense of victory as Jean heads to the front desk to pay the bill.

As we step outside of the restaurant, a whole group of people are beginning to leave the plaza. Apparently Jean and I didn’t notice we took a very long time stuffing our faces in. I take a quick look at my watch (what does a person with recent amnesia do with their old cell phone anyways?) and gasp when I see that it is about time for most of the stores to close.

“Jean.”

“Yeah?”

“Our curfew is almost up.” If my watch hadn’t failed me, we only had about half an hour to get back to the hospital. If we were even a second late, Levi would be screaming at us at the top of his lungs.

“Fucking hell.”

“C’mon let’s hurry up-” I move ahead without looking forward and accidently bump into someone. I see a huge scar on the side of the stranger’s cheek; it resembles a gash that runs

from the corner of his lips to the bottom tip of his ear. I squeak at the sudden force and mutter an apology.

“It’s alright.” I freeze when I hear the familiar boyish voice. It couldn’t be…

“Eren,” I say before I can reconsider my actions. I try to make eye contact, expecting a confused look on this man’s face.

“M-Marco?!” Instead, I am met with those forest green eyes, the ones that belonged to my friend Eren Jaeger. “You’re alive?” His desperation came out hoarsely as he observed me with a baffled expression.

“Hey Marco, we gotta-” Jean catches up to me and his mouth drops when he sees why I haven’t bolted out of the plaza.”Jaeger?”

“Kirschstein? You’re here too?” Eren puts both of his hands on his head. “Not only that, you’re with Marco?” He falls to his knees for a moment before standing back up to pull both Jean and I into a strong hug. “Thank fucking good.”

“No way.” I look back on my nightmare, trying to only relive the last important parts. “Didn’t you die?” I cover my mouth. That sounded way too blunt for our unexpected reunion.

Luckily, Eren releases us from his strong grip and chuckles. “I could say the same thing about you.”

“Good to see you Jae- Eren.” Jean graces his former rival (pretty much best friend) with a gentle smile.

“Same here Jean.” He reaches over to ruffle Jean’s hair. “You still got a fucking horseface though.”

Jean huffs. “Are you still going to use that old joke?” He tries to stay serious but ends up laughing when he glances at Eren’s smirk. “Fuck you dude. Don’t need to show off your ‘Adonis’ face, alright? It was pretty hard to compete with you back then.”

Eren sticks his tongue out. “Well now you have less to worry about since I have this on my face.” He points to the scar I noticed earlier.

“True, true.” Jean smiles falters. I guess he isn’t trying to make too many jokes about Eren’s face.

“I say that looks awesome.” I interject.

Jean’s mouth opens again into a wider gape and Eren just grins; oh it seems like forever since I’ve seen him this happy. The brunette drapes his arm across my shoulder and drags me so we now stand side by side. “I see Marco still can’t resist my charms huh?” He purposely winks at me before he glances at Jean.

“Y-you wish asshole.  I bet Marco is just being nice.”

“What’s wrong Jean? You jealous?” Eren wiggles his eyebrows.

“You know what Jaeger?”

“What?”

I stare in silence as I watch the two argue over this silly subject. It hadn’t occurred to them to ask what my actual opinion. I didn’t mind as basked in the rather spirited banter. These two hadn’t changed at all… I gasp when I realize that there is much more significance to Eren’s arrival. “Eren?” I nudge him on his side.

“Fucking douche-” Eren nearly jumped when I revealed my presence to him once again. “What happened Marco?”

“Are...um….the…” I fidget and bite my bottom lip.

“You can tell me.” Eren pats my head.

“Are the others okay?”

Jean’s face stiffens. Eren is expressionless at first, but then he smacks me in the back and giggles. “I should have expected that from you, Marco. They are all fine. Also, if you think scars are sexy-”

“He did not say sexy.”

“Whatever Jean. If you think scars are ‘awesome’,” Eren curls his fingers for extra emphasis.  “You should totally see Annie’s face. She is a total badass now. I mean it isn’t like she wasn’t before, but you know what I mean.”

“How did you guys make it?” I try to lower my voice; people are still passing by.

“That’s a long story actually. I will try to keep it to the point alright?”  Jean and I both nod our heads eagerly. Eren scratches the back of his head. “Well, let’s see now…”

He explains to us what happened on the day I keep reliving in my nightmare. Most of our facts match up, even the incredulous walls of fire seemed to include themselves in Eren’s recollection. The similarities stop when the deaths of my friends come into play. They did have a near death experience, but one of the local soldiers had managed to make a breach in the brick wall behind them. Though they had many injuries, they all managed to escape. Due to their drastic differences in medical priority, all of them were separated to be taken to different hospitals in Trost. It took many months before they could reunite once again. They were happy to see that they all survived; my absence took a heavy toll on the happy atmosphere.  

They delayed their trip back to our hometown to search for any clues that lead to where I was. As expected, they didn’t find anything. Most of them suggested to just go home, but Eren kept the search going; maybe it was because he had always a huge amount of hope, maybe he just didn’t know what he would say to Jean if they ever met up again. Everyone had only moved back just a few months ago, apparently cramped up into a 3 bedroom apartment.

“Wait until everyone finds out about this shit.” Eren breathes out. “Wait, everyone should see this shit.” He coughs. “Not that I’m calling you shit Marco.”

“Don’t worry about it. You know the only one who can’t take a joke around here is Jean.”

“And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Anyways, you guys should totally come over the house tomorrow for dinner. We are obviously having pizza since we are poor bastards now, but I’m sure no one will mind if you two join us.”

“I don’t know. It depends if my doctor lets me go out tomorrow.” I say truthfully.

“Doctor? You look totally fine though Marco.”

“I actually have partial amnesia. It was way worse when I first came back here though.”

“Well shit. Everyone ended up getting fucked huh?” Eren gave me a serious look. “You won’t forget this happened right?”

“No I won’t.”

Eren smiles. “Good. I guess I will see you tomorrow maybe?”

“You gotta give me your number and the address first, dumbass.”Jean scoffs.

“Riiiiiiiggghhhht.”

As they were doing their quick exchange of information, I decided to check my watch again. “Oh no.”

Jean looked over to me.  “What happened?”

“We only have ten minutes to be back in my room.”

Jean’s face paled. “Shit. Levi is going to kick my ass.” He quickly dialed the last digits of his number on Eren’s phone. “Dude we gotta go like right now. Just text me the address later, okay?”

“Sure-”

“Bye Eren!” I wave goodbye while getting dragged by Jean. He also waves to Eren, but doesn’t bother to look back. He looks like he is about to have a panic attack.

“Later players!” Jean manages to roll his eyes as he continues to sprint his way through the crowds of people surrounding us.

We were somehow graced by sheer luck; we magically arrived at the front desk in record time, seeing the man we both feared would reprimand us.

“Kirschstein, Marco.” Levi walks up to us.  “You do realize what time it is correct?”

“Yessir.” We both spurt together.

“May I ask why you two were out so late as to barely make your curfew?” Levi tapped his foot impatiently.

“Well you see,” Jean starts off.

“We ran into an old friend.”

“Friend. Was this friend so important to almost risk worsening your condition?” He glares at me with a worrisome glare.

“Yes he was.” I take a deep breath before continuing. “He was someone from Trost.”

Levi eyes widen for a moment. “Is he one of the ones from your…”

“Yes.”

“Ah.”

“And if you wouldn’t mind sir,” Jean cleared his throat. “We would both like to go visit him and the others tomorrow evening.”

“Others?”

“All of them survived.” Levi seemed to get the gist of what I was saying.

“I see. What an interesting development.” Levi takes out his outdated cellphone. “I will contact Dr. Smith and ask him about your request. For now, go get some rest you two.”

“Yessir.”

“We will. Have a good night sir.”

“You too, Marco.”

For the first time in years, I slept peacefully. The nightmare no longer reared its ugly head. I dreamt about hugging everyone like the big sap I am.

Once morning comes, I hear rustling from the corner of the room. It must be Jean sorting out his clothes again. I sit up almost immediately and turn to face him. “Did we get an answer yet?”

Jean sighs. “No.”

“Oh.” My head unconsciously drops. Maybe I would be forced to stay in this hospital today. I am about to ask Jean what would we do if we get rejected, when a light knock is heard from the door.

“May I come in?” It is Dr. Smith.

“Come in.” I try not to be too haste in answering.  He might not let me go if I’m too anxious.

Dr. Smith enters and stands next to my bed and signals Jean to stand on the opposite side. “Levi has told me of your abrupt request.”

“I know it is last minute, but please understand that I need to go see them doctor.”

“It might improve his condition,” Jean adds.

“That is a possibility, but it can also lead to severe trauma. Your brain might not be able to handle all this new information. You might break down in front of all of them. Are you sure you are prepared to take that risk, Mr. Bodt?”

“Yes I am.”

Dr. Smith nods and smiles slightly. “I hope everything will work out then. Your curfew is extended due to this special circumstance,” He looks over to Jean.”  But it is still your duty to watch him, understand?”

“Of course.”

“Good. I will see you two at another time then.”

“Alright, take care doctor.”

“You too.”

Hours seemed to fly by; my nervousness caused Jean and I to almost leave late. I had trouble choosing an outfit, going over what I was going to say to each of them, and basically trying to tell myself not to go bonkers.

“If you were any more nervous Marco, I’d say you would go batshit crazy.”

“Geez. Thanks for the support Jean.”

He shrugged. “Just saying how it is dude. C’mon let’s go.” We both walk to the hospital parking lot and take Jean’s car.

The drive wasn’t too long; the apartment was literally quite under our noses the whole time. If only I could have gotten out sooner. We enter the apartment complex and ask the lady attending to the front desk where Eren’s apartment was. It was on the top floor, where the ‘huge herd of livestock’, as the lady referred them to, could not disturb any of the other tenants. After climbing numerous flights of stairs, we finally stand in front of Eren’s door. It looks worn out, maybe due to Reiner’s inability to control his brute strength.

“Should I knock or-”

Jean takes the initiative and bangs on the door. “Open up fucker!” Jean always did have a way with words.

Rushed footsteps are heard from inside and Eren swings the door open. “You guys came!”

“I just texted you like 15 minutes ago, stupid.”

Eren sighed. “Can’t I have my own fucking moment for once, dipshit?” Eren clears a path to the hallway. “Come on in guys. Everyone is already in the kitchen. If you need to elbow someone to give yourself enough room, all is fair game in this house.”

Jean lets me go in first. I hesitantly head towards the end of the hallway. As I get closer to the kitchen, a  flurry of voices becomes louder and louder. My heart jumps as I make eye contact with all of them.

I raise my hand slowly and do a small wave. “H-hi guys.”

“MARCO!!!!!!!!!!” I am too slow to react to the heaps of bodies that nearly tackle me to the floor. They all laugh and cry when they bring me into a huge group hug. Jean is involuntarily brought in as well when Reiner spots him trying to escape.

Sasha still has that goofy smile, but one of her eyes is covered with an eyepatch. Her right eye had completely lost its vision. Connie now sports a prosthetic leg; he now gloats about how he is no longer afraid to kick any of us guys in the nuts. Reiner is wearing an arm brace. His muscles were severely damaged, but he still beats Jean at a round of arm wrestling with his weaker arm. Bertholdt lifts up his shirt to show me the stitches and scars trailing up his back. It would only be one more year before his spine would be completely healed. Annie looks at me with a scarred face; it looked as if someone dug their fingers into her face and dragged her skin to create red indentations. She did look badass. Armin smiles gently and points to his throat. He lost his ability to speak and is in the process of learning sign language. I make a mental note to get started on that as well. Mikasa also lifts her shirt, but only halfway. I look away at first, but she tells me to look at her ribs. They were a ghastly color; that meant she was forced to let the others do all the strenuous work.

They all had some sort of injury, but nothing had changed. They all were just how they were before this whole mess happened. They crack small jokes and talk about the dumbest theories. They still compete against each other in games like Monopoly and Mario Party. Most importantly, they still tease me and Jean.

“Will you guys shut up?” Jean groans.

“We will stop once you tell us if you guys are gonna get back together.”  Connie says.

“Yeah come on.” Sasha insists.

“Do it for the vine Jean.” Reiner adds his own sense of his humor to the argument.

“B-but,” Jean stammers.”

“Just say it already.” Annie says bluntly.

I lose all my sense of humiliation and go for a quick peck on Jean’s cheek. Jean becomes as red as a tomato and covers his face. Cheers and nods of encouragement make me grin mischievously. “Does that answer your question?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... was this enough sap? Too much sap? Really great? Really weird? Feel free to let me know in the comments. I always appreciate some feedback, even if it is just a sentence or two. I think this will be the official end for this story (unless someone magically suggests something that I would be interested to extend) But hope you enjoyed! Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you liked it! For me, it's iffy and seems a little rushed.....blegh. But I am really glad I finished it on time ^_^ Let me know what you think if you want! *rolls away*  
> P.S. Sorry if it's really lame or cheesy I don't know how to control myself with these two. I am also gold-sakura on tumblr if you want to message me on there! Thanks!  
> EDIT: Now with a sappy epilogue!


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